


First (And Second) Flight

by Da_Vinci_101 (Metonic_Cycle)



Series: Only a Bird [4]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Antonio knows both Ezio and Leo are idiots, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28360113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metonic_Cycle/pseuds/Da_Vinci_101
Summary: Leonardo sighs, though it seems to be more from exhaustion rather than exasperation. He closes his eyes, shaking his head again. “There is no talking you out of this… is there, Ezio?”“No.”There is a short moment of silence.“Very well,” Leonardo replies listlessly, opening his eyes and turning away to look at the wall again. What is sointerestingabout those damn walls?? “I will prepare the machine. It’ll take a few hours. Come back this afternoon- it should be ready by then.”
Relationships: Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Leonardo da Vinci, Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Leonardo da Vinci
Series: Only a Bird [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067156
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	First (And Second) Flight

**Author's Note:**

> I'm aware that this part of the Memory Sequence takes place in 1485, but let's just say it's still 1481 and leave it at that.

_“Antonio! Ezio’s here!”_

His hood down for the first time in a while, Ezio waits patiently as Antonio comes down the stone staircase and approaches swiftly. “Ezio! Is everything alright?” he asks, concern written across his features.

“Carlo Grimaldi and Barbarigo are in league with the one they call The Spaniard,” Ezio answers. “They are planning to murder the Dodge, and then replace him with one of their own pawns. If that happens, they will have _all_ of Venezia- her entire fleet- in their grasp.”

“And they call _me_ a criminal,” Antonio replies with an irritated snort.

“Then you will help me?”

Antonio nods slowly. _“Sì, sì-_ you have me on your side, brother, as well as the support of all my _compagni._ ”

 _“Grazie.”_ A small smile spreads across Ezio’s lips- it’s instantly washed away when Antonio goes on to say, “But Ezio, I must warn you. It will not be so easy this time- _Palazzo Ducale_ is the most _heavily_ guarded building in Venezia.”

Ezio reaches for his hood and pulls it back up over his head. _“Nothing_ is impenetrable.”

Rosa, who has been listening in on the conversation this entire time, quips with a laugh, “This is why we like you, Ezio.” She turns to Antonio. “Maybe we should take a look, and see if we can come up with a plan to get inside.”

Antonio nods in agreement, already walking towards the gate and waving his hand for them to follow. “Well then, what are you two waiting for? _Vieni, vieni!”_

~~~~

“Ezio, Rosa! Look!” Speaking in a hushed whisper (hushed for Antonio that is), Antonio waves his hand frantically, pointing through the fancy metal fence separating them from the inside of the _Palazzo._ “Isn’t that him? Grimaldi?”

Ezio nods, pressing his finger to his own lips. _Shush._ Both thieves get the message and remain quiet. Meanwhile, the _assassino_ approaches the fence while in a low crouch, straining his ears to catch the words being spoken.

 **_‘Don’t you understand what I am offering you,_ ** **signore?? _Listen to me,_ please. _Or this will be your last chance!’_**

 **_‘How_ ** **dare _you!’_**

**‘Mi dispiace, _I meant- I meant nothing by it. I’m only looking out for your safety…’_**

As the conversation fades into incoherent mumblings, Ezio turns his attention back to Antonio and Rosa, who appear to be focused on examining the fence- probably for any weaknesses.

“There doesn’t seem to be any way for us to get through or _over_ the fence- not unless you want to skewer yourself in the process,” Rosa observes.

“It’s impossible!” Antonio exclaims (thankfully none too loudly), throwing up his arms in frustration. “There is no way in or out for us-” As the thief paces about anxiously, he swings his boot in such a manner that scares off a small flock of pigeons that made the mistake of sitting right in his path. “Only for these _uccelli del cazzo!”_

Ezio stiffens at the mention of birds. More specifically, at the memory that the mention of birds brings.

 _“Err- giant_ bat _, you say? It’s nothing, really. Just an idea I’ve been working on… I could not leave it behind.”_

 _“Cazzo,”_ Ezio mutters, clenching and unclenching his fingers. _“Cazzo, cazzo!”_

“Ezio, Antonio, calm down.” Rosa waves her arms up and down repeatedly to emphasise her words. “We will find a way in, somehow. But we need to _think,_ not _cuss_ the poor birds away.”

“I _think_ I might know a way we can get in…” Ezio stands up, his whole body stiff and his breaths shorter than normal. He clenches his fists again as he continues, “However… I am _not_ looking forward to what I will have to do to acquire the means.”

~~~~

_“You!”_

Ezio growls, stopping and turning round. He sees yet another one of those wretched minstrels- and this one is not looking particularly happy to see him. The _assassino_ brushes his cape to the side a bit, revealing the arsenal of weapons he has partially hidden underneath. The minstrel doesn’t even seem to notice.

“You humiliated my friend,” the minstrel says, walking up to Ezio with his hands on his hips. “Simone da Toscana is his name. Three weeks ago, you humiliated him in front of-”

“Oh, _spare_ me the theatrics and tell me what it is you want already,” Ezio interrupts, crossing his arms and glaring at the slightly smaller man. “That, or complain to someone who actually _cares.”_ This part earns him a fist colliding with his eye.

Ezio stumbles back a bit, and a smirk spreads across his lips as he slips into a battle stance. “Ahh, so it’s a fistfight you want, _sì?_ Bring it on, then!”

~~~~

The glint of hope in Leonardo’s eyes sputters into death when Ezio explains that he is only stopping by to pick up the Codex page (assuming it’s been deciphered by now), as well another favour.

Leonardo quietly steps aside to let Ezio in. _“Sì,_ I have finished deciphering the Codex- you will find it and my notes on the worktable,” he says, gesturing to the aforementioned piece of furniture. “You say you came by for another favour as well?”

Ezio nods, ignoring the strange knotted up feeling in his gut, and points to the flying machine, which is hanging from several ropes tied to the ceiling of the workshop. An incredibly dangerous place to put it, Ezio thinks- not that he cares, of course. No, he doesn’t care. He’s just here for the Codex and the stupid flying machine. ~~He doesn’t even want to know how Leonardo managed to get it inside his _workshop_.~~

Nothing else.

He doesn’t notice the darkness underneath Leonardo’s eyes, nor does he notice that the workshop is much more chaotic in its messiness than usual. Nor does he notice the destroyed canvases in the corner of the workshop, the sheet of cloth that’s supposed to be covering them not doing a very good job of, well, _covering them._

“Does it work?”

Leonardo’s eyes follow Ezio’s finger. He doesn’t seem to quite comprehend the question, as he asks slowly, “What? What are you asking?”

Ezio’s impatience bubbles to the surface, and he waves his hand towards the flying machine frantically in his frustration. “The giant bat thing- does it _work?_ Can it _fly??”_

“I don’t know.” Leonardo continues to stare at the machine, and plays with his hands in nervous, erratic motions. Ezio can’t help but watch them for a few seconds- they almost seem to be moving of their own accord, as if the owner has no control over them whatsoever. “I have not had it tested yet, and I don’t know of anyone who would be _mad_ enough to be willing to jump off a _building_ to do so.”

Ezio crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow. The confusion on Leonardo’s face is clear, and so the _assassino_ explains, “I think you have just found your madman.”

Leonardo’s jaw falls open slightly, no doubt from shock, and after several seconds he shakes his head quickly, turning away to look at the wall. “No- no, you are not testing it. No. It is far too dangerous.”

“I promise to _try_ not to break it,” Ezio replies blandly.

Leonardo whirls back around, and Ezio stiffens upon seeing the glare his friend- _former_ friend- is giving him. “It is not the machine I am concerned about, Ezio! I can easily build another one if necessary- but I am not going to let you risk your own life just to take my machine for a _joyride_ , or whatever the hell it is you plan to do with it!”

“Your concern is noted.” Ezio’s voice is dry and angry, but this doesn’t seem to deter Leonardo from continuing his rant.

“And I am especially not going to let you fly in _that_ condition!” Leonardo gestures towards Ezio’s face. A nice, big black and blue bruise was already blossoming on the skin around his eye.

“It’s just a bruise, Leonardo,” Ezio tells him, tone unwavering. “You should see the other man. He is in much worse shape than I.”

“I will not hear of it-”

“Leonardo, will you _shut up_ for five seconds, and allow me to explain the situation!?” This seems to get through to the clearly agitated _artista,_ as he goes quiet after Ezio’s outburst. _“Grazie._ Now, the reason I _need_ to use your machine is to get inside _Palazzo Ducale._ If I am not inside in time, then the Dodge will be killed and replaced by someone else- someone under the command of The Spaniard. Which means that all of Venezia will be under Templar control. I cannot allow that to happen. Now, either you let me test your machine willingly, or I will _take_ it from you. Either way, I am using it to get inside the _Palazzo.”_

Leonardo sighs, though it seems to be more from exhaustion rather than exasperation. He closes his eyes, shaking his head again. “There is no talking you out of this… is there, Ezio?”

“No.”

There is a short moment of silence.

“Very well,” Leonardo replies listlessly, opening his eyes and turning away to look at the wall again. What is so _interesting_ about those damn walls?? “I will prepare the machine. It’ll take a few hours. Come back this afternoon- it should be ready by then.”

~~~~

Ezio climbs up to the top, hoisting himself up and over the edge of Leonardo’s workshop roof. The _artista_ , who has just finished making sure the ropes on his flying machine are secure, turns his head to see the ivory-robed man. Ezio ignores the fear creasing the lines in Leonardo’s face, instead focusing his gaze on the flying machine.

“Is she ready?” Ezio queries, his eyes flicking about to take in the entirety of the machine. Now that he can see the thing in its full glory, he can’t help but think it… beautiful? He shakes his head of the thought, knowing full well that following that thought and its trail would lead to something. Something he doesn’t understand, and doesn’t _want_ to understand at this point.

 _“Sì, sì,”_ Leonardo answers. He waves his hand towards the long, wide handle on the underside of the flying machine and adds, “Stand underneath there, and hold onto the handle _tight_. And wait for my next instructions. Don’t just go _jumping_ off and then break your neck.” Ezio refrains from rolling his eyes, and obeys the commands given to him. Once he is in position and gripping on the wooden handle as tight as he can, he hears Leonardo’s next instructions. “First off- if you see that you find that you are getting very close to crashing, steer for one of the canals. That should soften your landing enough to keep you from breaking any bones. Secondly- in order to steer this machine, you have to shift your weight. It’s all about _balance_. Too far to the right or left, and you will wind up splattering yourself on the street.”

“I find your confidence in my abilities to be reassuring,” Ezio retorts dryly.

Leonardo, who was examining some blueprints he has spread out on a wooden crate a few feet away, lifts his head and glares at the _assassino._ “Ezio, I am telling you all this to _minimise_ the risk of you _dying.”_

“Am I allowed to test the machine now?”

Leonardo whips his head down to glare at the blueprints instead of Ezio. “Please take what I am saying seriously, Ezio- I do not want you dying because of me.” The _assassino_ opens his mouth to retort when Leonardo adds, “When you jump off, make sure to put your feet up on the support bar on the back- you will _definitely_ become a splatter on the street if you’re just _dangling._ Now you are free to fly it. And _remember_ to aim for a _canal_ if you are about to crash.”

Ezio doesn’t reply, instead leaping off the building, clinging tightly to the machine’s handle. He flings his feet back up behind him, securing them on the support bar Leonardo had spoken of. His stomach somersaults as he soars through the air- he’s really doing it, he’s really _flying!_ Ezio can’t hold back the small smile spreading across his lips as the wind blows gently in his face. He can’t believe it- he’s _flying._ His excitement at the fact doesn’t last long.

The machine starts to dip.

 _“Merda!_ And I haven’t even come close to reaching the _Palazzo!”_ Ezio shifts his weight to the right, steering for the nearest canal like Leonardo said to. The left wing catches on the side of a building, splintering the wooden boards of the wing upon impact. The machine is sent spiraling into the water. Ezio- who’s now under the water, along with what’s left of the flying machine- lets go of the wooden handle and pushes himself off the machine to swim away as it sinks to the bottom of the canal. He swims up to the top quickly, sputtering once he reaches the surface (as when he crashed into the water, some of the stench-reeking liquid had entered his lungs). He slowly swims to the edge of the nearest street and pulls himself up and over the side. He immediately plops down on the bench next to him and starts wringing out his robes and cape, hoping in vain that if he gets most of the water out now, before his clothes dry, then perhaps he won’t smell so bad.

It’s not long before Leonardo comes sprinting, panting heavily. He very nearly falls over when he stops, his entire body trembling with exhaustion. Ezio can tell that the _artista_ ran the whole way here, and probably didn’t even stop to rest for a second. He ignores the way this thought makes him feel, and instead shifts to the side a bit so Leonardo can sit down next to him.

The lighter-haired man drops himself on the bench gratefully, still breathing loudly.

“She flew,” Ezio tells him. “Not very far. But she flew.”

Leonardo nods, not saying a word. After about a minute or two, he does finally speak. “I am glad to see you are alright.”

Ezio ignores these words, acting as if they’d never been spoken, and says, “We should try to get what’s left of your machine out of the water if we can… and then I will have to tell Antonio that we will have to come up with another way to get into the _Palazzo.”_

Leonardo sighs. “Let me go over my blueprints. Perhaps I can find some way to extend the duration of the flight long enough for you to reach _Palazzo Ducale._ I can handle getting my machine out of the water myself. Come back to my workshop later with your friend Antonio, if possible. I… hopefully by then I will have a solution.”

~~~~

Late that afternoon, Ezio and Antonio return to Leonardo’s workshop to find it in even worse shambles than it had been this morning. Papers are strewn all across the floor and tables, accompanied by splatters of ink and paint. Tools are also scattered everywhere, leaving a hazardous obstacle course that Ezio and Antonio are forced to carefully navigate around lest they want to trip, fall, and break their noses on the floor.

Leonardo meanwhile is pacing back and forth by the burning fireplace in agitation, muttering angry curses loud enough for Ezio to hear.

“Leonardo…?” Ezio calls to the _artista_ , cringing internally at the uncertainty in his voice.

Leonardo doesn’t seem to hear him, let alone notice his or Antonio’s presence. “I’ve checked and rechecked my blueprints,” he mutters, his fingers twitching and as a result, crinkling the sheet of paper in his hands. “It’s impossible. It’s just _impossible_. I don’t know how to extend the flight!” His voice rises in volume, and he stops pacing, smacking his hands and the paper down on the table in front of him. “It’s impossible. I can’t do it. Arghh- _che idea del cazzo!!”_

Leonardo tears several sheets of paper off the table and throws them at the fire. Instead of descending into the flames, however, the sheets of paper float over it for a moment, suspended in mid-air, before some flutter safely to the floor, while the rest wind up in the flames. Meanwhile, the _artista_ had been watching the paper intently this entire time, ignoring the queries both Ezio and Antonio are throwing at him.

Ezio watches as Leonardo bends down to pick up one of the sheets of paper. Finally acknowledging the presence of his two guests, Leonardo stands back up and turns towards them, the paper in his hands. Ezio sees the familiar enthusiasm returning to the inventor’s features.

“I’ve got it! I know how we can extend the duration of the flight!” Leonardo turns slightly, and points to the fire. “If we can set up a series of lit braziers throughout the city, creating a _path_ to _Palazzo Ducale_ … and if Ezio flies over them, then the heat rising from the fires should extend his flight long enough for him to reach the _Palazzo!”_

Ezio tilts his head as Antonio turns to look at him. _“‘Pezzo di merda_ invention,’ indeed, Ezio,” the thief says, the sarcasm in his voice clear as day. Without waiting for the indignant response waiting on the tip of the _assassino’_ s tongue _,_ Antonio then turns to Leonardo- who is busy gathering up some papers- and adds now rather coyly, “Clearly, someone doesn’t know how to appreciate _la tua bella mente,_ Maestro da Vinci.”

Antonio then turns his gaze back on Ezio with an expectant smirk on his face, ignoring Leonardo’s flustered mutterings.

“…” Ezio is utterly bewildered. What does Antonio expect him to say? He doesn’t understand what the thief is trying to get at here, or if the man is even trying to get at anything at all. For all he knows, Antonio could be trying to confuse him on _purpose_ , just to mess with him.

Antonio’s smirk falls, and throws his arms up in frustration. _“Sei un fottuto idiota!”_

“Why- what did I do?” Ezio asks blankly, his eyes flicking from Antonio to Leonardo, then back again.

“It’s what you _didn’t_ do, Ezio,” Antonio grumbles, shaking his head. He whips his head to look at Leonardo. “Is he always this _dense??”_

“Oh believe me-” Leonardo sets down his papers and regards Antonio with something akin to amusement. “- this does not even come close to what I’ve had to deal with in the past.”

Ezio doesn’t know how to feel about this.

He feels awkward, standing here while Antonio, his ally, and Leonardo, his former best friend, joke about him as if he’s not even present. He finds himself especially confused by Antonio’s “your beautiful mind” line that had been delivered to Leonardo. Not just in that Antonio had said it to _Leonardo_ , but also in the way it makes Ezio feel. Why did Antonio say it to Leonardo, anyway?

Ezio internally shakes his head of the thoughts. He needs to focus. They have more important things to worry about at the moment.

“There are archers on nearly every roof of the city,” Antonio explains, “so someone will have to clear out any who patrol along the path leading to _Palazzo Ducale._ Then I can have my men take their places and help Leonardo set up the braziers.”

“I can do that. Just tell me where I need to go,” Ezio replies, crossing his arms and relaxing slightly. Yes, he can do that. That’s something he can do.

Leonardo, who is now marking spots on the map in front of him with a pen, turns the sheet of paper around so Ezio can see it. “You will need to clear out the archers along _this_ path,” the _artista_ tells him. “Once that’s done, meet us back here. We should have my machine up on top of the roof by then.”

_“Consideralo fatto.”_

And with that, Ezio whirls around, his cape flying up behind him, heading for the door.

~~~~

The plan worked. The machine, with the help of the braziers Antonio’s men set up all along the path, was able to carry Ezio all the way to _Palazzo Ducale._ But it he hadn’t been able to get inside in time to stop Carlo Grimaldi from poisoning the Dodge. Grimaldi had run off of course, in an attempt to escape _Palazzo Ducale_ with his life.

Ezio made sure that Grimaldi at least didn’t succeed at _that_.

And so, the _assassino_ now finds himself pacing about the courtyard of the Thieves Guild in barely masked anger and frustration at his own failure, Grimaldi’s blood slowly dripping from the bracers housing his hidden blades. Meanwhile, Antonio stands off to the side a bit, arms crossed, shaking his head.

“If I had arrived only a few minutes earlier,” Ezio mutters, flicking his wrists and extending his hidden blades with a _shink_. He flicks his wrists again, and the blades disappear just as swiftly as they came. He does this repeatedly as he continues pacing. “A few minutes earlier, and I could have stopped him. The Dodge would still be alive, and Venezia still free of Templar control.”

“You did what you could, Ezio,” Antonio reassures him. Or rather, tries to. His words fall on deaf ears, as the _assassino_ only keeps pacing and muttering to himself, as if stuck in a trance.

Leonardo steps into the courtyard through the front gate, Rosa at his side. “Rosa told me everything that happened,” Leonardo says quietly, stepping towards Ezio and then stopping, fidgeting with his hands again and looking anywhere but at the person he’s speaking to. “Are you alright?”

“Am I _‘alright?!’”_

Everyone in the courtyard flinches at the abrupt rise in Ezio’s voice.

“I _failed_ , Leonardo!” Ezio spat, and the _artista_ stepped back at bit, clearly on edge from the other man’s outburst. Ezio doesn’t seem to notice- or if he does, he just doesn’t care. “Obviously I am not _‘alright’-_ if I had been there _sooner-_ ”

“Ezio!”

Antonio’s voice cuts through the angry haze of Ezio’s thoughts.

“We are all just as frustrated as you,” Antonio says, lowering his voice a little. “But feeling sorry for yourself is not going to change the past. The Dodge is dead. Venezia is in Templar hands- for the time being. We will find a way to free it, but for now, you are needed elsewhere.”

“‘Elsewhere?’” Ezio echoes, finally ceasing his pacing and now regarding the thief with a blank expression.

 _“Sì._ You are an _assassino,_ are you not?” Antonio uncrosses his arms and settles his hands on his hips. “I’m certain you have other places to be. More Templars to fight. My people and I will do what we can to deal with things here- and if we find a way to take down the new Dodge, you will be the first to know.”

“You don’t even know where I live.”

“He does,” Antonio counters, tilting his head towards Leonardo. He then turns to actually face the _artista_ and adds, “I trust you can have our correspondence delivered for us?”

Leonardo nods slowly, his features unreadable. _“Sì,_ I can.” His eyes are glued to something on the floor, and his hands are fidgeting a bit more erratically now.

Antonio then looks back at Ezio, who is glaring at the wall. “Is this acceptable, Ezio?”

Ezio inhales sharply, closing his eyes and opening them again. He continues to glare at the wall, as if believing if he did so long enough it might actually melt under the boiling heat of his anger.

“That is acceptable,” Ezio mutters, his voice laced with displeasure.

Five years would pass before he ever returned to Venezia.


End file.
